After a dawn weakened by my melancholy
after a sad covered by the threatening clouds
the sunset sheds its sorrow on the fields
like a river which takes its spring in the marshes of war
or close to the ocean with the multiple blood reflections

There where the sun sinks and dies
I run on the hills but the red spere
escapes once again !

So the colour of joy disappears
sorrow comes towards me

Just a small door is opened
in the immensity of the heavy skies
which lets in at last some rays of dim light

But this lone door closes alas !
Hunting thus the slightest hope
and on my trickling face
the bloody god leaves slowly
each tears of my life flows at night
in my melancholy

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